anything to protect her captain
by scribblingnellie
Summary: Medic Hooper just needs to get an unconscious Captain Lestrade under cover and keep him alive until help arrives. Cornered and being shot at is surprisingly conducive to confessions. And kissing. A sci-fi space rebels AU. * Originally published as a chapter in Random Tumble of Molstrade.* Swearing, including f-word.


swearing throughout, including the f word

* * *

'Captain!'

His body fell with a sickening thud. The blast had knocked him out. Molly knew just by looking at him he wasn't dead. That was her job, and she had no intention of him dying. Not before… anyway, more important things to think about. Another blast hit the wall by her head; just to remind her they were still sitting targets.

'Shit.'

Cover. She had to find cover. A quick look told her the best retreat would be the small bay off the corridor. The old Sigma class freighters had too many wide corridors but plenty of hiding places.

'Ow.. fuck it.'

Pain smacked into her shoulder; the last blast had flashed off the wall, side swiping her. She'd had worse. Ducking her head down, slinging the blaster across her back, Molly grabbed the Captain under his arms.

'Come on, sir, out of sight for… shit!… a while.'

Bumping his body backwards over the door frame, Molly gently laid him down against the back wall of the tiny cubicle. She'd never figured what these little cubby holes had been for, but then she'd never spent long enough on a freighter to find out. Rolling his body onto his side, hands forward, into the recovery position just in case. Two quick shots outside made her jump.

'Ok, ok. Give me a second. Stupid Federal Guards.'

Grabbing at her blaster, pulling it forward, she leaned out the door - no sign of them - and blasted off three replying shots. And then quickly pulled her head back in. As stupid as they were, she reckoned they'd soon figure there was just two of them, and one of them was out cold.

At least her communicator was still working. 'Hudson?' Holding down the send button, Molly tried contacting their pilot. 'Hudson!?'

'Hooper? Where are you?'

More blasts outside in the corridor; Molly stuck the blaster end out and let off a quick round of fire.

'Hooper? Watson said he'd lost you two.' Slight edge of panic to her voice.

'We're still on board the freighter. Captain's down. We're cornered. We need…'

'Oh, my dear. Right, hang in there. I'll just get Watson to…'

Three more blast interrupted. Molly lifted up her blaster.

'Seriously, one thing at a time!' she shouted as she returned their fire.

'Hooper, dear!'

Molly brought her communicator back up to her mouth. 'Yes, still here.'

'Watson and Donovan are on their way back in.'

Now there was something you didn't see every day; the two sergeants together.

'What, no Sherlock?'

More blasts hit the wall opposite. Shit, where did they come from? Guards on both ends of the corridor was not something she needed right then.

'Ha, could you imagine it! No Sherlock. Hold tight, Hooper.'

'No other way, Hudson. Out.'

Both hands now free, she fired off a quick round of blasts; aiming at the wall opposite, hoping the angle would deflect the blasts down both sides. Now there was something they didn't teach you in Medic Training. Checking the energy pack - three quarters charged - Molly fired off another round, for good measure.

'Oww, what the.. bloody hell.'

Oh, that rough voice behind her made her heart leap. So good to hear it.

'Captain.' Turning, as much as she could in their confined space, she reached a hand under his head. 'You're back.'

'Where'd I go?'

'Not far, though with you.. duck!… with you, I never know.' More blasts hit the wall just outside the door. 'Hang on.'

Half sitting up, he looked groggy but alive; Molly took her hand away, turning to fire another round of blasts. She could feel him behind her trying to sit up, his heavy boot pressing into her back.

'Damn it, Hooper, why does my bloody head hurt. And why the bloody hell are we stuck in a cupboard?'

Laughing, she leaned back against him, reaching her hand round to gently place a finger on the red, swollen blast wound on his temple.

'Welcome back, Captain Lestrade.' She applied light pressure to the wound. Only surface scarring. 'Ricochet blast, sir. Sent you down like a log.'

'Bollocks, I…'

Several blasts crashed against the wall by the door. Molly stuck her blaster out, letting rip.

'So, we're trapped.'

'Temporarily sir.' She turned back to him. 'I hope.'

'Back up?' His fingers gingerly exploring the wound.

'On its way.' She pushed his hand away from his head, ignoring the heat of his fingers under hers.

'You hope.'

'Yes, I hope.' Groping in her jacket pocket, she located the emergency pack. 'Let me see to that, sir.'

Reaching up to the red mark, letting her fingers gently trace it, she felt him flinch.

'Sorry sir, I'll just put.. shit!'

Feeling the heat of the blasts rush past her, she pulled the Captain's head down, shielding him. As the blasts smacked into the back wall, she leaned back out the door, returning fire.

'Hooper, give me the blaster.'

'Sir, I…'

'Do it, Hooper.'

'You're injured. I need to see to your wound.'

'You can't do both.'

'Sir..'

'I'm the Captain. I'm the one who looks after my crew, including my Medic…bollocks!'

A quick round of blasts against the corridor wall.

'Damn it, Molly, get behind me.'

Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her out of the doorway, their sides pressing close together. Molly felt his muscles as he shifted her past him, his hands gripping her sides tight.

'I'm not losing you any time soon, Hooper.'

As his eyes looked back into hers, she saw it. Locked together for a few seconds, they stared at each other. She'd never realised. How long? Bloody hell, if she'd known, she never would've wasted all that time waiting. Greg turned away first, returning blaster fire as Molly felt herself pushed back against the wall.

'Oww, bollocks, damn it…'

'Greg!' She pulled him back, letting him collapse into her lap. He looked up at her, his lovely brown eyes in pain.

'Now will you let me do my job, sir?'

Carefully, she placed the anaesthetic pad against the wound. He watched her, eyes following her hands as she took another pad, applying it next to the first.

'That'll take the edge off the pain. Best I can do till we get back on board.'

As she moved her hand back, he stopped her. Fingers firmly holding hers, Greg brought her hand to his lips. A soft kiss on her palm.

'Thank you, Molly.'

Finally. Brushing back the ragged strands of silver hair from his face, she bent down, letting her lips press against his forehead. And then his head was tilting back and she felt his lips catch at hers.

Gods, it was just as wonderful, even upside down, as she'd hoped; all those times she'd spent daydreaming about kissing him, and touching him, and there they were. Under fire, awaiting rescue, stuck in a what probably was a broom cupboard. His hand caught itself in her hair, tugging at the band that held her ponytail back; she grinned against his lips.

'Ah-hmm.'

Startled, they quickly broke apart, guiltily looking up.

'Nice to see you've recovered, Captain.' Donovan, with two dead guards at her feet, smiled. 'About bloody time you two, the sexual tension was killing us. Now, can we get off this heap of junk please.'

* * *

 **Based on a tumblr prompt - _protection_. For some reason I was inspired to write an AU with Greg and Molly as space rebels (think Star Wars / Firefly / Blakes 7!) - hope you enjoy reading Captain Lestrade and Medic Hooper.**


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